


Nothing Extenuate

by Lise



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, Gen, Loki Posing as Odin, Odin's B+ Parenting, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV Odin, Post-Thor: The Dark World, one-sided conversations, probably not canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:23:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8576587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: In the Odinsleep, Odin dreams - and listens, all too aware of the world around him. 
All too aware of the one-sided conversations his youngest son drops by to have.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This relationship is so much fun to chew on. There's so much going on, and so much to dig into, and apparently I just can't help coming back to it whenever I get the chance. Which is a really unexpected direction for me, since it's definitely not one of the places I saw my interests going when I first joined this fandom five years ago, or whatever it is now. (Longer than it should be, is the answer.)
> 
> Of course in canon we don't know what happened to Odin between Loki's announcement of his own death in disguise and his assumption of the throne at the end of the film. But until proven otherwise - and probably after that too - I'm going to assume that it didn't involve outright murder.

The Odinsleep was not like sleeping, as many seemed to think. It was not oblivion or emptiness - it was oneness, reconnecting with the web of energy from which Asgard’s rulers had drawn their power for generations. He was not awake, but he was not unaware, either. 

He could have explained this, but ultimately it served him better not to. As he had told Frigga, smiling, _if the nobility knew I could hear them they would continue to come and petition my sleeping body, even knowing I could not answer._

Even adrift in the sea of the universe, the memory hurt. _Ah, Frigga._  

“Leave me. Do I now require supervision in my own bedchamber?” The sound of his own voice drew him back toward a more particular awareness of a specific place. “You hesitate, Meili. Do you think me so infirm?” It was a masterful imitation of his voice. The sort only possible through long familiarity. 

“No, Allfather,” murmured a sheepish voice. “Of course not.” 

“Then begone.” 

The sound of retreating footsteps, and a door closed. Long silence, and then a lengthy sigh, followed by the shuffling of weary footsteps and the sound of a body sinking into a chair. 

Then silence. It was difficult to hold on to one particular place, and Odin could feel himself starting to drift. 

“Is it always this exhausting?” he said, and this time not in Odin’s voice but his own. Loki’s voice. 

(“ _We found a body,” the guard said, and Odin had gone cold._

_“Loki, he said, not truly a question. The guard inclined his head, just a fraction, and he had felt it like a punch in his chest, the realization of grief, the understanding that that loss still meant something.  
_

_He stood, leaning heavily on Gungnir. “Where,” he demanded roughly. “Where is he?”_ )

“Was this part of your plan? Place the realm in my hands so that I might learn how heavy its burden is? Clever, old man, if that was your aim. But I am not going to fold. I will rule Asgard and I will do it _well._  Better than you.” The anger in Loki’s voice burned in Odin’s throat, but he could say nothing to counter it. Make no argument. Loki had come before, to vent his venom, and if he never stayed for long it was long enough. 

And yet Odin still listened. 

( _The guard straightened, frowning. “Svartalfheim, Allfather.”_

_Odin descended the steps, his stomach burning. “You did not bring his body back? You_ left _it there?”_

_The guard seemed surprised. “Loki was a traitor. I did not think…”_

He was my son, _Odin thought, but the words caught in his chest, even as did his breath, and he staggered, a wave of dizziness overcoming him. He thought he had done his mourning and finished it. How could there be more?_

_“Allfather?” The guard’s voice sounded distant, and different. Almost familiar._ )

Loki was quiet, and Odin began to wonder if he had left, the call of the universe tugging at his consciousness, but then he spoke, very quietly. “I should have killed you,” he said. “It would have been the smarter choice. Or cast you out. And yet here you are. And here I am. Still half tempted to beg for your approval.” Loki snorted. “What a fool I still am, it seems.”

He paused, like he was half expecting an answer. “But of course,” he said after a moment, softer still, “that doesn’t matter now. I wonder. How much did you see from your high seat, old man? How much did you know?”

If Odin had any control over his body, he would have frozen; his breathing would have caught. It was probably a good thing he did not, but he suddenly wished he could open his eyes, see the look on Loki’s face. 

“I wondered, you know. If you saw me and didn’t care. Oh, summon the energy to send Thor to Earth for the Tesseract, of course. But for me? What was your analysis of that situation, Allfather? Was it just not worth wasting the effort for your pet monster?” 

Burning in his throat. _What situation, Loki,_ he would ask, if he could. _Explain yourself,_ but he could not speak.

“Or did you consider it only _just,”_ Loki said, and Odin heard a quiver in his voice. “That I should suffer, be humbled, did you think to time your rescue perfectly so that I would be _grateful,_ so that I would grovel at your feet and bare my throat for the collar? But I won. I _won,_ Allfather, I played a losing game and I survived and now Asgard is _mine-”_

His voice shuddered and broke. It might have been anger, but Odin did not think it was, not when he heard the quiver on his next inhale. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Loki hissed. “I win. Do you hear me?” 

_I hear you,_ Odin thought. _I hear your desperation and your fear._

( _His knees struck stone and he could feel it now, the Odinsleep pulling him away. Too much endured, too much power exerted, too much. Hands caught him only to let go a moment later._

_“No,” hissed a familiar voice. “No, you do not get to do this to me again.”  
_

_Through blurry eyes, he could just see his face, drawn and gaunt. Loki. But Loki was dead. (Or he was not.)_

_“Is this grief, old man?” Loki said, his eyes wild. “Am I meant to believe that?”  
_

_“Loki,” Odin said, but he did not have the time for anything more._ )

“Father,” Loki said, almost too softly for Odin to hear. “I waited for you. I waited for you, and then I waited for you to _ask_ but you did not, and I knew then it would not matter.” The next words were sharper, anger that sounded like it took effort. “We were finished, and you did not even show me the courtesy of execution. No, you wanted me forgotten. Bury your shame. But I will not be buried.” 

The scrape of a chair. Odin knew the sound, knew it meant that Loki was about to leave. There were so many questions he would ask, if he could, but he could not, and the longer this Sleep went on the more he wondered if he would ever be able to, or if soon his consciousness would simply fade and dissolve into the rest of the universe. 

“I hope your sleep is peaceful, Allfather,” Loki said, and Odin could almost taste the bitterness in the words. “Peaceful and dreamless.”

He closed the door quietly behind him.


End file.
